Waukegan Bound by Erik Jensen Metaphors mature, and as they do, they keystone our minds' masonry. Waukegan is a industrial and residential puzzle of a city, like any other. A home or house depending on who you ask but nevertheless, a static place with real streets, actual trees and hard facts. And for one instant, it was a hypothetical, ominous final stop for this train carrying you, your endearingly clumsy synaptic patterns and me. As we leaned in and shared childhood secrets, Waukegan was an apocalyptic prophecy to me heralding the end. The not-so-silent thief in the night, announcing itself subtly as each station slid into the past. That was then and now came with much fanfare. I find myself again on the train, sipping coffee as people come and go. Waukegan will come again, and I breathe slowly thinking of the tip of your fingers in my hair. Waukegan will appear again, and I must stop the doomsday clock. Waukegan is here again, and this time, I will face her knowing that my life is mine. I step on the platform, coffee still in hand, see that these buildings are real. Metaphors mature, and Waukegan is now bittersweet. 09/05/2011 Posted on 09/05/2011 Copyright © 2024 Erik Jensen Return to the Previous Page   pathetic.org Version 7.3.2 May 2004 Terms and Conditions of Use 0 member(s) and 2 visitor(s) online All works Copyright © 2024 their respective authors. Page Generated In 0 Second(s)